The Fight
by ComingAndGoingByBubble
Summary: Sibella and Phoebe's first fight.


Phoebe had asked a question that she already knew the answer to.

It was a question, as of late, she had been quite insistent upon asking even though each time she did so, Sibella's reply remained the same.

This time, Sibella's reply was first accompanied by a sigh. A short, irritated sigh.

Phoebe always asked this question after they had made love, entangled upon the sheets of Phoebe's bed or Sibella's bed at Highhurst.

Phoebe never failed in at least asking the question once their tryst had been over, when she knew Sibella was in a good mood, loving, and hopeless against Phoebe's charms.

And yet, when Phoebe asked this particular question, Sibella's mood soured. It was immediate, quick, as if something had snapped within her.

"Why don't we ever go to your place?"

Phoebe knew it was moot to ask, and yet she knew Monty went there. On rare occasion, still, but she knew that he had been there all the same. Something about taking Sibella up against her husband's dresser while the man was away for business, and then once more in his precious motorcar.

Phoebe had only seen the outside of Sibella's house that she lived in with Lionel. It was a pretty house, white, pristine, with a nicely painted black door. Very typical of London. White sheer curtains covered the windows. Not a hair was out of place. The car was parked in the street. Sibella had mentioned something about Lionel wanting a garage but they didn't quite have the space for it.

Sibella twisted out of her arms after the question had fallen from Phoebe's lips. The absence of her warmth against Phoebe's skin was quick to turn bitter cold. Phoebe sat up.

Sibella had sighed then. She ran a hand through her hair prettily. Then again, everything Sibella did was pretty. The way she kissed Phoebe was pretty, the way she walked into a room was pretty, the way she let out little gasps of pleasure when Phoebe made love to her was pretty, the way she tossed her hair was pretty.

Yet, when Sibella turned, her face was a pretty shade of anger. Her features were dark, angry even.

Her eyes had turned hard, when they had been so loving just a few mere seconds ago after Phoebe had nearly caused Sibella to dig her nails into the wooden headboard above them. Sibella had a complaint just on her lips at that very second to reprimand Phoebe for nearly causing her to break a nail in the name of ecstasy, not that Sibella really minded.

"You know why we can't."

Her reply was short. Cold.

Phoebe reached out a hand but Sibella shrugged it away. She sat up as well, the sheets falling from her body, exposing her pale skin.

"You've let Monty go there."

"Only because it was expected of me."

"To have the man you've committing adultery with over for a cup of tea?" It was her turn for her voice to turn hard. "Or to have him over to take you in every room of the house?"

Sibella paled.

"Phoebe…"

"He took you, in the house. In the car. Why can't I? No one would suspect a thing. You could invite me over for tea."

"If anyone found out-" Sibella's voice was harsh. She stopped herself short. Her gaze was angry, furious… and the tiniest bit fearful.

Phoebe gulped. She suddenly understood.

"Are you afraid of people finding out about us?"

Sibella dipped her head.

"Are you?"

"Phoebe, it's not like-"

Phoebe got up out of bed suddenly. The air in the room was cold, and she reached for a robe that she had hastily thrown to the floor. She tied it around herself.

"And yet with Monty, it is nothing!?"

Her voice was furious now, angry.

"Phoebe, please, you know this whole arrangement is delicate…"

"Do you have any idea what else is delicate about this?" Phoebe whirled around at her, and Sibella had the good sense to look frightened of her then, "My heart, my affections! Do you have any consideration for the fact that I am head over heels in love with you, and yet you continue to let our love be a secretive thing!"

"If any of this falls into the hands of the public or worse Lionel, we'd all be ruined."

"Is that what you're worried about, your reputation?" Phoebe laughed. She had considered herself to be a smart woman. She knew how people had looked at her, how they already thought her strange and odd. They had done that since before her marriage to Monty, and long before she ever confessed her feelings of love for Sibella. Her reputation never bothered her. Not really. For as long as she was happy and healthy, that was all she cared for.

But Sibella… Sibella was different. Phoebe knew that, and yet it still hurt to hear such things. Phoebe had thought that their arrangement might change her mind, might make her less scared of how others perceived her, and yet it had only seemed to heighten her fears.

"You seem to have no trouble letting Monty take you where-ever he pleases," Phoebe uttered then, not waiting for a response from her, "No regard for who hears or sees you then. No care as long as Monty's there-"

"Phoebe, that is not true!"

"Look me in the eye and tell me that," Phoebe demanded, her voice shaking. 'She glanced at Sibella, who had gone pale, and was now looking down at the sheets.

"I love you, Phoebe." Sibella whispered.

"Only when it's convenient for you. Only when you want to love me and when it suits you to love me."

Phoebe's words were a slap in the face. Sibella actually reeled from them as if Phoebe had struck her. Her eyes filled with tears, but then again so had Phoebe's.

"Phoebe…" Sibella's voice broke then. "I do love you. I love you all the time, no matter what."

"And yet I'm treated as a secret, as something you're ashamed of."

"Only because-" Sibella trailed off into sobs.

"Because I'm a woman? Because it's not proper?" Phoebe scoffed, "I thought you were different than all that, I thought that didn't bother you as long as you were happy. Do I make you happy, Sibella or am I just collateral damage you picked up in your quest to have Monty?"

Phoebe's words were angry, hurtful, but she didn't care. She had been wondering this for some time, and now it was all spilling out.

"You make me so happy," Sibella choked back sobs. She got up then, going towards Phoebe, putting on her robe as she did so. She reached out a hand, hesitantly. Her fingers brushed against Phoebe's cheek, and Phoebe found herself ducking away from the touch.

Sibella's sobs were quiet.

"Phoebe, I love you so much," expressed Sibella softly.

"So why don't you let me make love to you at your home?" Phoebe's question was barely a whisper.

Sibella was silent for a moment.

"I was afraid… truly and honestly. Of everything, of this whole arrangement, of how actually happy I was. It was all so new and terrifying… for the first time in my life I've felt wanted, happy, loved. And bringing you back to the house… I feared it would shatter the bubble. That Lionel would find out, or the servants would and that would be the end of all of this. And I don't want it to end."

"But Monty-"

"Yes, Monty has been at the house, but that was before. When I first married Lionel he insisted on coming, but Phoebe, he hasn't been back since. I begged him not to, I told him I didn't want this to be ruined."

"Are you so afraid of this all ending?" Phoebe's question was quiet. A murmur really.

Sibella nodded tearfully.

Pity stabbed at Phoebe's heart. She embraced Sibella after a moment, holding her close.

"I couldn't bear the thought of this ending, of being away from you and Monty forever. If Lionel ever thought- if he suspected a single thing, he would have us move in an instant. But here… we're safe here."

Phoebe lifted up Sibella's chin then. She was crying. Tears fell down her cheeks, God, she even cried prettily.

"Yes, we are safe here," Phoebe murmured, arching on her tiptoes to kiss her.

Their first fight had been quite the fight, but ever since they let their grievances and worries out, their time together had been filled with nothing but love and happiness.


End file.
